conversation series part 1

i want to tell you

Ok, I won’t write a sad piece about you because if you were to read it, you would be horrified for having read such morbid words about yourself. Nano, you have no idea how much I miss you. I never thought I would but I do, miserably. A part of me aches and cries for you while the other part sometimes disbelieves your disappearance. We have spent such serene and countless moments together that its difficult and painful to think they will no longer take place. There was a time when I could’nt keep you on my display picture in my cell phone but I knew that one day I would be able to. And guess what nano, I can now. You’re the first person I see when I get up and the last before I sleep. And I pray for you. I pray that you’re in a wonderful place.ameen.
You’ve come to so many peoples dreams but never mine. I want to see you nano, I want to know that you’re at peace, wherever that is. I know that mumma saw you and so did maliha, but never i.
Our new house is beautiful and if you had been here the first thing you would have noticed would be the height. Yes we live on the 9th floor now. You would have screamed the first day and a week later, you would have been fine. That’s how you were, a drama queen. My drama queen. Guess what, I have your tv now. Everyone makes fun of it. So what if its tiny, we have seen so many dramas and movies together. My brother says its smaller than my laptop screen. So what right? You always thought somebody would buy it. Well, ive kept it for now.
Guess what nano, I have applied for a scholarship in america. I know you wanted me to visit mama and inshallah I will. I wish it had been the two of us, remember our plans of seeing the world, Especially india. Remember nano, how you told me that if I travelled with you, you wouldn’t feel insecure or scared. I would tightly clutch your hand and off we would be.
I miss talking to you at night. I miss your questioning me after my return especially from dadi amis house. And most of all I miss you. I know mumma does too. That’s why we don’t talk anout you a lot. We mention you but quietly digress from the subject. I have seen her cry sometimes, when her old friends call who don’t know about you. We didn’t tell everyone you know. I didn’t tell my friends. It was too painful nano, to mention your death. I couldn’t do it. The first time that I came to your grave, I cried silently. It was the second day of your death. The memory fresh in my mind. Your grave was silent and peaceful. I stood there quietly with my parents. Watching you, your name that was there. I said a small prayer for you. I didn’t want to leave. I stood there long after my parents left. They called out to me, but I didn’t want to move. Time was frozen. I was frozen. Then mama came and he and mumma cried together. I left because I couldn’t bear it. I kept mourning for you silently, never shedding a single tear. But something happened. On the day mama went back, I unleashed myself. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried for you.i cried like a baby, tears became streams. A puddle gathered below my chin and wet my clothes. No one saw me cry nano. I wanted to mourn for you in my own way. That night, while trying to fall asleep I cried again only this time louder. No one heard or saw me. I fell asleep thinking about you.
Then mumma and I started to wind up your house. Can you believe it nano? We were putting away all your things, donating them like they were never yours. I helped mumma once and saw your pictures. Guess what? I kept them all. I have pictures of your trips and childhood. You live in my wallet too. You, nana and dada, the people who are now gone.
Then one day, your house was empty. I slept in it for a few days until we had to give it up. The apartment that you loved, lived in and cherished was devoid of every object that ever belonged to you. It became a ghost house. Then one day we closed it, locked it and moved like we never lived there.
Nano, our new neighbours are weird. You wouldn’t have liked them. But you would have loved our new place. You and I would take long walks and shop at the store. Of course you would find everything expensive.
You and I would have shared our room together, of course there would be fights almost everyday but so what right? We would gossip, vent and voice our thoughts.
But you’re gone now. I was in school when I got the news, studying for GRE. I couldn’t concentrate on the math section when suddenly my brother called. He sounded gravely serious. I asked him why he called. He said you had just passed away. It took every nerve in my brain to process that. I was numb, dead for a minute.
When I think of these memories, I cry. The pain still exists. It seems like only yesterday when you were diagnosed with cancer. The chemo was working. The doctors were positive. They said you would live. You had hope. We had hope. But god had other plans. Life alhamdolilah is great but sometimes it seems to lack something and that’s you. Nano, ammar never ever talks about you. You know, he cried at the grave. He didn’t tell anyone but I found out.
We continue living but deep down, you are missed. At any birthday, wedding or celebration you are thought of. How can we ever forget you nano? You are the coolest. As I write this, again tears roll down my face. But I want to write to you and about you. I still want to have our conversations. You’re not dead to me nano. You can never be. And I know when I’ll miss you the most. The day that you dreamt of witnessing_my wedding day. I know you wanted to see me as a bride and give me away. So what if you’re not here, I’ll still remember you. And inshallah, one day I’ll tell my kids about you. The stories that I heard growing up will be passed down to them. NANO, you will always be remembered…………..its a promise……….
I LOVE YOU

its cruel

Some relationships are just not meant to work out. It seems cruel when a seemingly happy couple breaks up because one of them is not happy. But is it justified? Is it justified to break your boy’s heart simply because you’re not happy? Or should you stick around for his happiness. The compromise would be a high price to pay. But can you spend an entire life with a man you have ceased to love. It really does sound cruel. A few years back, some close friends had hooked up silently, surprising and disappointing many. They had been the talk of everyone’s conversation, attending parties and enjoying concerts. Some had anticipated they would not make it. They would eventually drift away as most couples do. And so they did. The girl too mature for the boy decided to end the relationship. Although I could never make sense of her reasons, a part of me understood her emotions. It’s cruel to tell someone that you’re not in love with them anymore. It’s biting and extremely painful. It’s almost like giving a toy to a child and asking him to give it back. But can anyone control their empowering emotions. Can you stop yourself from feeling a certain way? Can you help it if you’re really not in love with someone? You respect and revere but not adore and worship. It’s harder for the person who has to bear it. It’s probably harder for him to recover from the shock, misery and agony. But will that person ever understand or forgive. He will be bitter for a long time, might not love at all. But if we empathize or decide to, we might be able to love or even forgive. The couple that I mentioned is still around. The girl is seemingly happy, working, focusing on her career. The boy is much better. He was in a terrible state for a long time. He couldn’t eat, sleep and talk for a long time. We all tried to counsel him, told him he would be better off than her. But when you don’t want to listen, there’s not much friends can do.
Sometimes the reasons for a break may seem silly but are important for the concerned people. Sometimes couples simply can’t understand each other in spite of knowing for years. They change in ways they never noticed. Their habits, lifestyle and priorities change. And they change for the better. Ok I am not talking out of context here. I always wondered about the real story of 500 days of summer. What the girl does to the boy may seem cruel but it was something that had to be done. I don’t think it was selfish of her, she just didn’t love him. And when she finally found love, she didn’t take a second to settle down. But it was so hard for the guy. He never really got over her. It was hard for him yes I know. It’s always hard but things always work out for the best don’t they? That’s why we break up and make up, so we can be with other people.

COMEBACK

Ok, I haven’t blogged for the longest time possible. Lack of time, no laptop and a schedule so busy, almost impossible to do anything. I have loads to tell and report. Yesterday I had a first student exhibition. I teach the seventh and ninth graders art and this semester, they produced such amazing work that my head was like, hira ‘you have to show this work to the entire school’. And I could’nt agree more I said. So off I was ordering paper, mounting, labeling each students work. And my entire week went doing work I had done back at art school and had swore then never to do it again. SIGH! But guess what. It was totally worth it. Every bit of it. My principal called to tell me that he loved my work. He said it was simple and beautiful. Imagine my delight. I guess hard work always pays off…………………………
I am glad that I joined this school. I get to do so many things in my spare time. Because I get to come home early, it gives me plenty of instance to spend time with my family, especially my mom. Then there’s free lance work of course. I am dying to design something especially something in print.
I think this semester I have been able to help kids in the way I wanted to. Seventh grade has the cutest kids possible. Boys are yet to be boys. Girls are already on their way_ Clash of gender. And these kids are so much fun to be with. Please ignore my digressing, I have so much to report…..
And let me talk about the teachers. Everyone is so funny here. There are teachers here who have been here for more than ten years. Its like a sorrority and membership is closed. They laugh, talk, sit and eat only with eachother. I call them the cullen clan. Theyre a lot like vampires. Then there are the urdu teachers who nobody really likes to hang out with. They have formed their own gang and usually seem quite happy on their own. Of course the math teacher also known as nutty professor is totally crazy! I think people who are surrounded by numbers for a very long time somehow get affected by it and so is his case. Then theres psycho. There are teachers who yell, scream and make students cry. And psycho is one of them. His heart is made of gold or so I have heard but his tremper is ferocious. So if a poor child forgot to tuck his shirt or had the audacity by running downstairs simply because he was late for class will get pyscho’s wrath. I think sometimes we forget that we were children too. I think we get so caught up in rules and ‘apparantly the right thing’ that we ignore a childs ignorance and unawareness.we reprimand him for not knowing what it might do to him. We berate and scold in front of friends without thinking about the childs psychological state.one of the kids in my class was called tony by his friends because he was short. He was also a learning skills student meaning he took his classes outside the classroom with a teacher devoted to students like him. So everyday when the rest of his classmates would study science in their classroom he would be sent to the library. And he knew there was something different about him. Once when I heard him being called tony, I told my class not to call him that. But later, a kid told me that he likes being called that and it struck me why. He wants his classmates attention. He wants to make friends and be acknowledged just like the rest of us. Its strange how he would let his fellows call him something hes not responsible for. :/

I BELIEVE AS I SEE.....

Today was another of my government school/ social work days. I have started twice a week now and I am actually beginning to like it. More like enjoy it. But there are strings attached. Strings that are long, heavy and almost impossible to detach. These kids for some reason distrust my co-worker and me. On one hand, they idolize us and on the other, they feel we’re from planet mars. They rush to shake our hands, give us a hug and crack jokes. They cannot wait to tell their weekly stories. Who is taking part in which competition? They smile and their eyes gleam with gusto and excitement. But their work speaks a different language. When asked to express, their mood dampens and enervates. The paper opens a door into their homes. A window into their monotonous and troublesome lifestyle. A juxtaposition of poverty and illiteracy. Joint family systems. Domestic violence and physical abuse. These children are a victims of these conditions almost everyday. Neglect and ill treatment. Some are discouraged to study. Their families want to curb their education. Others are forced to work after school. Boys are used to provide income to their families.

But what strikes me as appalling is how they still come to school, cheerful and enthusiastic. I don’t know how they keep their problems aside to learn the fundamentals of life. It certainly shows a deep sense of maturity and integrity on their part. And as much as I am surprised to see their behaviour, I am also impressed. Knowing that they will get a spanking for no unknown reason, they happily draw colourful fruits and vibrant faces.

I think every week, I find myself learning from them more than what I can give them to learn…………

I don’t know how many of them will make it to college or even university. But I am really glad that I am here to witness this side of these children…..

IAM CLOSER TO THAT PLACE....

people don't understand why i teach. they're surprised when i tell them that i have a bachelors in design. they ask me why i don't work for a mill or a design house. they simply dont comprehend how i settle for less.....but today if they had been with me, they might have understood. they would have understood the satisfaction i get by making the little ones learn. mostly i learn from them.
today i learnt a great deal from them. my co worker took me to this goverment school to see their art curriculum and the trip was so inspiring. he told me it was going to be beautiful and it was. he was right. the children were beautiful. they were intelligent, bright and waiting to be loved. their work was breathtaking. fresh and out of the box. they were welcoming and intuitive. insightful and meaningful.
while we worry about which car to buy and what brand is better, these kids struggle with daily neccessites of life. in an assignment where they had to draw their desires, one child made fruits, food and clothes. i cannot get over this. its a selfish and man eat man world and we are an integral part of it. while we race for the first and second position, there are children around us whose issues are greater than ours. while we grieve for grades and scholarships, some of these children might not even make it to college. whats going to become of them. who is going to look after them? while we sit and watch greys anatomy, episode after episode, waiting for mc dreamy to appear in our lives, these kids are beaten and abused everyday. they are victims of incense, molestation and neglect. yet their happier than us. they smile more often. a hug and a simple hand shake makes their day.

AWAY......FAR.....BEYOND

its been almost a month since i started teaching. and i finally feel like iam home. iam home. this is home. there are inspirations and aspirations. mentors and teachers. students who are yet children.
i feel like iam actually progressing with my life. not stagnant anymore rather forthcoming.
i have god to thank.
i have people who i owe
i have friends who i love
i have family that is irreplaceable
i learn and teach,a lesson everyday.........
sometimes it takes a while for your nightmares to diminish and cease. sometimes it takes more than you thought it would.... but they do... and when they do, you know exactly what life has taught you.....